Alone in the Universe
by Xhexie21
Summary: After Edward left, Bella is soon diagnosed with schizophrenia as explanation for her belief in vampires and werewolves. But her time with the Cullens wasn't all a figment of her imagination. It was real... wasn't it?
1. Prologue

**Alone in the Universe**

**AN: This is my first ever fanfiction! *squeal* I've had this idea in my head for a really long time now, but have never gotten round to actually writing it. I quite excited to where it will lead and I hope you enjoy it!**

**Disclaimer: All recognisable characters are property of Stephaney Meyer. No infringement intended. **

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><p><span>Prologue <span>

Standing solitary among the destruction, I felt both relief and guilt to be safe from danger. I knew it was already too late; the surrounding area was testament to that. The unidentifiable rumble was all that remains of all that I knew.

My home.

At least that was what I came to call it in these past months. With a situation such as mine, it was as good a home as I was ever going to get. I may have resented it at first; despised the overly cheerful wall paint, compulsive cleanliness of every available surface and tenuous schedule that _had_ to be followed from sun rise 'til sun set – but in the end, it was where I spent 24 hours a day in, seven days a week. I made some of the best friends imaginable in that place and ultimately, it was where I finally discovered the truth... about everything.

That's got to count for something, right?

Towards the end I truly believed in that place – its purpose and results. It gave me hope in life – hell, it gave all of us hope for a better future: the hope that someday we'll get better enough to put everything bad in our lives behind us. To live a normal life.

That hope was now gone.

I wished to God that everyone got out safely. When I was able to escape, chaos was already underway. As the smoke filling up the corridors, all that was identifiable where the tear stained faces and light extruding from the windows that teasingly presented out escape, yet frustratingly were still bolted shut. In all the confusion, people didn't know who to turn to, or what to do. It was unlikely that they all got out. There are definite victims in this terrible accident, the only question is who and how many.

I felt sick to my stomach. It may have been the stench of what I only hope is melting linoleum in the air or the sick fact that I knew it was going to happen – okay, well I didn't really know _this_ was going to happen, but the warning was there and I didn't listen. Why didn't I listen?

And I was just standing there, facing the _perfect_ ending to what was otherwise and then furthermore the worse night of my life, unable to do anything but watch as the nightmare unfurls.

Even more disturbing yet, is even as instinct tells me to turn away, my legs take a deliberate step forward. The crunch of leaves under my feet is drowned out by the roar of the flames and my presence seems insignificant in the existence of such mayhem.

As I get closer, my vision slowly turned to a horrific two-tone of the blackest grey and the brightest yellow: a collision of colours in the scene before me. My eyes began to water from being exposed to the smoke and blinding light. My breaths become quicker with each step and my limbs were shaking uncontrollably.

Come on Bella, turn around! Run!

_No, you need to get closer... _

It was madness, yet my feet kept on moving further into the path of the flames.

I was so close now, the heat was overwhelming. Each lick of fire seemed to scold my skin. I closed my eyes at the brightness, yet even behind my lids I could still see the angry flicker of the inferno. It was seeping into my mind and invading my body._ Cleansing me._

_This is good. The fire will burn away all the evil inside of you..._

Evil. Yes, there is still evil inside me. I thought perhaps... no. It is still there. I can feel it.

_The fire is the answer. It is the only way..._

The only way.

Why didn't I see it before? Of course it made sense for this to be its weakness. It was true once for... them, so why not this?

_You know what you have to do..._

This was what I was meant to do. Everything had led me to that point and all it took was a few more steps to end it all – all the suffering, all the heartbreak.

_Just do it._

And finally my body stopped vibrating, my breathing mellowed out to even intervals and I felt an overwhelming sense of calm that seemed peculiar after months of agitation and confusion. It was never going to get better, I knew that now. This is the answer. This is how I could finally forget everything.

Yet just as I took the first step towards my destiny, I suddenly I felt I was not alone. Whoever it was made no sudden movement, didn't speak or made any noticeable indication that they were there. Yet for some reason I knew, I _knew _someone is behind me and that they were watching.

_Ignore them._

My body was already turned halfway around. The hairs on the back of my neck were standing on end and gone was my once calm breathing.

Danger... there was danger behind me.

Turning slowly all the way round, I faced my observer.

And what I saw made me want to run straight for the flames.

"Bella."

His voice was hesitant like he was scared of my reaction. It was rough, not as I remembered it. Too rough to come out of such a perfect mouth. But at that moment, that mouth was pulled into a devastated expression, reflecting his total horror of what he was witnessing. His whole face was sullen and filled with shadows of fear. His eyes – too, not like I remembered – had lost their light. There was still overwhelming love deep within his expression, but other – darker – emotions seemed to be overruling him.

His appearance was completely different from the last time I saw him. His clothes were in disarray, hanging off his limbs in places, ripped in others like he's recently been in a fight. His hair was of a darker shade and had grown out to his jaw line. For some reason I notice he had no shoes on.

This whole image was a cruel joke to how I remember him. His stance represents someone who was completely lost and he no longer conveyed the sense of fearlessness and power; he was now a shadow of his former self. Wild... too wild, almost as harsh and as deadly as the creature he represents.

He took my hesitation as an opportunity to step forward slowly. His movements promoted trust. He wanted me to trust him.

Something, deep within my heart urged me to step forward and rush into his arms. I know him. My soul knows him.

Yet my brain insisted on accepting the truth.

I took a step back. The action stops him in his tracks. His brows lower and disbelief flashes across his eyes.

"No." I said breaking the silence. The word was final and echoed surprisingly loud in the surrounding landscape. It had gone on for long enough; this was how it must end.

"Edward..." I said, his name wasn't as hard to pronounce as it once was, "you're not supposed to be here."

If I thought his expression couldn't get any more complex, I was wrong. His brows lowered even more at my statement and he took two more quick steps forward.

I couldn't have that.

"No," I almost shout in reply to his actions. I turn my body halfway towards the fire with my right hand outstretched, palm flattened in his direction, "Don't come any closer."

His expression is heartbreaking as his interprets my movements: a warning of what I intended to do.

It had finally come to this. It was perhaps both the start and end towards my long awaited recovery. I suppose I should have anticipated it – it started with him, so it must end with him.

"Edward," I tried again, "I don't... I don't want..."

Here came the hard part.

"I don't want you here."

Wow, it was finally out in the open. But this was good. It was acceptance, or growth... whatever. I understood that it had to happen.

His eyes widened in horror. "Bella..." his voice cracked, "Please..."

This was wrong... he wasn't suppose to act like this.

I took another step back. I _had_ to do this. "Stop. Stop... all of this! I want you gone! I wanted you gone a long time ago!" My vision was getting blurry as my eyes filled up. Great, now was getting all blubbery. I'm supposed to be the strong one in this conversation.

I quickly wiped my face and held my head up high with arms to the side and my fists clenched. No longer would I be the victim.

I let my features fall into an uncharacteristic fierce expression before I continued, "You don't belong here anymore. Don't you get it; I finally understand what you are!"

"Bella," he replied, his posture mirrored mine – he too would not give up. "Whatever they did to you in that place... whatever happened... I am so, so sorry. I understand that it is my entire fault." He took a large – unneeded – breath before continuing, "But, Bella I–"

"Stop." I interrupt him. "This has gone on for far too long, don't you understand that I need to be rid of you... that it's because of you that they put me in that place?"

He recoils at my words. "Bella, I don't... I don't understand."

Of course not.

"Edward..." I said, my voice was surprisingly steady despite being unable to meet his gaze. "You are _not_ real. You never were. I finally understand that now. It was never real – what we had – because you never existed. You don't exist. And for me to get better, like I was finally getting in that hospital... you have to get out of my head!"

And without looking back one last time, I did the only thing I could do: I ran into the flames.

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**... So that was the ****Prologue****! **_**Please**_** review and tell me what you think! xx**


	2. Chapter 1

**This chapter is unbeta'ed.**

**AN: Thanks to those that have added this story to their favourites, even when its only at this very, very early stage. Hope I don't disappoint you.**

**Disclaimer: All recognisable characters are property of Stephaney Meyer. No infringement intended. **

Chapter 1

I was not crazy. By definition I knew I should be and I understood that. Hell, I respected that. But people shouldn't have automatically stated me as insane just because I believed in vampires. They _were_ real, so therefore I was _not_ crazy. Not even a little bit. But obviously not one else agreed and as I've "created" a world in which creatures of the night walk among us, of course I was severely delusional. It was the fucking Martha Mitchell Effect*.

Ok, so being the newest patient of a mental institute for adolescents and being diagnosed with a mild case of schizophrenia wasn't exactly a good start. I knew that. If asked how I got myself in such a situation, my answer would have been an endless list of little mistakes, tiny accidents and total utter fuck ups stretching over the past few months that had all completely snowballed into this utter disaster that is my life.

You would think god, or whatever higher being there is up there, would have shown me mercy after leaving me to endure the heartbreak of watching the love of my life willingly throw me away in order to pursue his more entertaining 'distractions'. But I was obviously not that fucking lucky. I asked myself, what could I possibly have done to deserve this turn of events, like I hadn't already paid enough? Yet here I was, not only forced to remember the greatest love that has ever or will ever happen to me, but having to spend my future trying to prove he existed in the first place.

"Bella," a deep, mellow voice interrupted my mental rambling, bringing me back to the cubby hole they called a room, where my current therapy session was taking place. "You've been sent here at the Tranquille Mental Hospital for a reason."

The office was surprisingly quite welcoming and warm, yet claustrophobic, but I supposed I would have to get used to it for my future stay here. It conformed to the rest of the Institute with the neutral wall paint and scratchy carpets. It was modest and professional, yet had the odd quirky attribute that brought life to such a small space. The simple desk to the left, for example, was paired with a bright red leather office chair and the array of certifications and licences framed over on the wall where amongst personal photos of trips to Europe and Disneyland.

The stereotypical therapy lounger I was sitting on matched the red leather chair and it was squashed up next to the only window in the room, with the door behind me. At the moment the window was open and the cool breeze seeping through was refreshing when seated on the heated leather.

As I was caught staring at a particular photo of my therapist with one of his arms around a little girl, whom I assumed was his granddaughter and the other around the well know figure of a costumed Mickey Mouse, I couldn't help but wonder if this guy sitting in front of we was qualified to call himself a professional.

"This place is for you to get better. Everyone here has only your best interests at heart."

Turning away from the photo, I finally addressed this unbearable man. Poster guy for Mr. 'I'm better than you 'cause I graduated from Ivy League with diplomas in this, that and whatever'. Receding white hair, tortoise shell glasses on the end of a slightly crooked nose, bulging belly, papery hands – the whole shebang for someone that obviously had no idea how to handle a teenager, as he seemed several centuries past being able to call himself one. His outfit today consisted of grey slacks, complete with suspenders, green shirt with a black tie and the famous quack doctor white lab coat. He introduced himself as Dr. Allen Roberts when we first met a week ago, as I can see now on his nametag positioned accordingly on his lapel. Actually, no, when I first met him I was still incredibly angry at being brought there, that I never actually caught his name. I remember standing, screaming in the corner next to the potted fake fern, refusing to sit down, making an almost embarrassing speech about how they got the wrong girl, before punching him on the nose when he wouldn't listen. Charlie would have been proud of my left hook, but perhaps not on my choice of victim.

Okay, I admit it wasn't the best first impression on my part. And it especially didn't help the whole 'I'm not actually crazy' persona I'm trying to uphold.

It went kind of downhill from there. Thinking back, I was acting totally unlike myself and I wasn't surprised of what followed. After my 'act of physical violence' – which was honestly just a light nudge, he was such a wimp about it – I was carted off by two attendings and put into isolation for two days. There I was left to not only attend my throbbing hand, but also wallow in self pity at my dilemma. No to mention I had a considerable amount of time where the only thoughts that consumed my head were of _him_.

After being paroled on good behaviour and made to take an assortment of tranquilisers, I was left to continue unpacking in my room. I soon discovered they were quite lenient with what we did in our spare time, and as trust goes, I found if I could retain from punching anyone, they left me alone.

Looking at the two black eyes I had given him that were still quite obvious now, I do admit to feeling a little remorse about that whole incident.

As the rest of the week went on, I was confined to only go to counselling sessions and the odd lesson here and there. Yes, even in a loony bin, I still had to have some semblance of education, as I was still only 18. Though I wondered now if I would ever get the chance to go to college. During that time, I only met a handful other patients, two of which both scared the living fucking daylights out of me. I spoke very little and did even less, but had daily doses of an arrangement of rainbow coloured pills that kept me quiet and harmless. Just how they liked it.

Overall, It was nothing like what you see in movies, thank god, but more like a very strict boarding school that actually _gives_ you drugs and instead of giving you detention, straps you down in a padded cell.

The staff themselves had been told to keep an eye on me at all times, as is their job with patients. But I know they're just waiting for me to do something wrong. But I learnt my lesson that first and only time; nothing I could say or do would ever make them believe me. My only option was now to just to play along. Here goes...

"I know Dr. Roberts, I understand that. You're just trying to help. " No I didn't and no he wasn't. Not. At. All.

His eyes narrowed while his left eyebrow quirked up slightly at the corner. The shift of his glasses momentarily blinds me as sunlight reflected off the lens. Rubbing my eyes to sooth the attack to my renters, I took the time to gather a response. He saw right through my statement. Damn, maybe they picked the best.

"Isabella," he huffed, placing his notebook closed on his knee, "You're are an intelligent girl, you may be shy, but you are perceptive of your situation and I'm willing to bet you're just agreeing with me because you think that is what I want to hear."

Sounds like I wasn't the only perceptive one. Okay, how could I save the situation?

"Fine Doc, you got me." I said. The truth never hurt anybody. _Er, Bella, have you forgotten, what got you in this mess..._ "I don't want to be here and I don't need your help. I don't know why I'm here in the first place, I'm not crazy!"

"Here we prefer not to use such pejoratives." He replied in an annoyingly patient tone.

"But why did they bring me to an insane asylum?" I almost shout. Now there was the ultimate question.

As he responds I play with a loose thread on the seam of my hospital provided scrub bottoms, once again hating the mandatory attire that would look ugly even on a supermodel.

Mid sentence, I interrupt him, "I know I said some stuff to my therapist back in Jacksonville that caused for her alarm, but honestly I didn't mean what I said."

"So what did you mean?" Christ, how do I answer that without seeming mad?

"Well, I... um..." I trail off, not knowing the answer to that question myself. And that's just one of the reasons I was in this mess.

I grasp at straws as I see him waiting for the end of my sentence, "I had recently just gotten out of a bad relationship with..." Shit, wrong direction... Why did I just say that? _Shut up!_

"With Edward..." This is it, what he wants to talk about. _God why does it still hurt?_ And this is how it starts...

I look away. I am so fucking _stupid_ – why did I ever have to open my mouth in the first place? How did I get to be here? Where did it all go so wrong?

My whole life had taken an unexpected turn for the worst right from the very point when _he_ left me. I felt alone now, more than I ever had in my life. I saw no escape and no solution. And the best part of all of it was I didn't even remember admitting the stuff that got me labelled as insane in the first place.

They think I believe that my ex boyfriend and his family are vampires and my best friend and his tribe are werewolves. Well yeah, they most defiantly are, but _never _in my right mind would I ever have willing admitted that to another. Not only did I know what would happen to me if I did, but god damn it, I still loved _him_ enough to protect the truth.

"Bella, you've been through a lot. Talk to me,"

My gaze turned towards the window, seeking a break from the penetrating eyes of Dr. Roberts and jumble of thoughts in my head, confusing even myself.

The view outside was hardly encouraging. Life outside was scarce: the view contained only two scrawny trees and a patch of grass in the distance – all of it dead. It wasn't actually hot here, but everything seemed so dry. Like nature had given up without even trying. What I wouldn't have given to be gazing out to the claustrophobic, muddy forests of Forks complete with sheets of freezing rain and wind, which penetrated multiple layers of clothing and froze you inside out. I remember telling _him _in our first conversation how much I hated the cold. Now it seemed I wished for nothing less. My heart longed for the deep natural colours that were present in every direction you looked. Here, there seemed to be only tones of the same colour scraped across the barren landscape. I would even have taken the welcoming heat of the Floridian climate; at least it was familiar – anything but the seemingly burnt wasteland surrounding me. There didn't even seem to be any hint of a measly breeze, everything was just stoic and like I said, dead.

I hated it when mom first brought me here. So far away from Jacksonville, it felt like she no longer wanted me anywhere near her. Like she maybe was afraid of me. For that I suppose I didn't blame her. When I got too much for Charlie, he shipped me off the Renée in hopes to liven me up a bit. My time with Charlie was a bit of blur, with the only points of light in the form of my blossoming, yet short lived friendship with Jacob. Apart from that, the only sharpened memory I have was from that time I went to hospital after that whole cliff diving accident in La Push. The doctors said it was because I wasn't eating enough that I fainted at the top. _Yes... fainted – like I would actually admit I was trying to kill myself because my vampire boyfriend dumped me and my werewolf best friend was ignoring me._ Lack of food also caused my bones to become brittle, causing multiple breaks including my rib to crack and puncher my lung when I fell. It was just so hard on Charlie. He blamed himself.

"Bella, don't you want to get better?" Dr. Roberts asked me patiently. How could I answer that when I knew there was nothing wrong with me? Physically, okay, as skinny as I am, I wasn't at my most healthy, but mentally, I'm as sane as this guy sitting before me. But how was I ever going to get these people to believe that I'm not crazy?

I was what they called catatonic those first few months when... _he_ left. How pathetic, even after months of therapy in Jacksonville, I still couldn't say his name. I was in what Dr. Conner diagnosed as a state of clinical depression. My life in Forks was an endless cycle of nothingness. A black void: a mirror image of my heart. My visit to the hospital was just the cherry on top the mother fucking cake. My recovery was a long one, with the hospital therapist coming in to see me now and then. It was like my body didn't want to get better. And I suppose it didn't, after all, I wanted to die from that fall; I wasn't supposed to be healing. I would hardly talk to anyone apart from my dad, not even with Jake on his rare visits. I just didn't want to be there, not alive anyway.

Charlie worried too much and I could see what this was doing to him as the days went on: the slight loss of weight, the darkening of his expression and the way he would look at me like he was losing his daughter right before his eyes. Not only was I hurting myself, but I was hurting him too.

I didn't know how to make it all okay again. I wasn't the same person I once was; I was changed and damaged ever since they left.

But for the sake of Charlie, I started to make an effort. The 'accident' on the cliff simply became a blip on our memory and I started trying to get better for my loved ones, not necessarily for myself. I started eating a little more, got by in school and continued the same timetable day in day out. But I was never really _living_ and Charlie could see right through me.

When he suggested the move away from Forks, I obliged without any objection. I welcomed scenery without memories of... them, and looked forward to a new beginning.

Mom and Phil greeted me with open arms. Renée finally had her baby again and was intent on cheering me up. I was thrown in daily activities, depending on mom's latest craze, to get me to start living.

For the first couple weeks, life was okay. I hardly ever had time to think about him, as was Renée's intent... but I always had the reminder. The space he left within my heart was always there, and when I was left alone, the feeling of abandonment and overwhelming heartbreak would whip through me like the worst kind of torture. He wasn't letting me go.

In the end it was the constant nightmares that convinced Renée that professional treatment was needed. Like Charlie, my silence was worrying her, but it was my screams at night that terrified her. I wasn't getting better, like she hoped; I was getting worse.

Dr. Heidi Conner was my mother's choice of therapist. As a specialist in teenage problems, in my mother's opinion, she seemed like the perfect solution. Like any specialist would be able to help with what I was going through.

My first outburst of emotion in months surfaced when Renée told me of her wish for me to speak to a professional. I blatantly refused, telling her the same think I told Charlie when he suggested it back in Forks. Therapy was useless if I wasn't completely truthful and for a professional to understand my situation and therefore help, they would need to know the whole story. And I couldn't give her that type of information.

Arguments became frequent between me and mom. She didn't understand why I couldn't talk about it and I couldn't tell her. We become further apart and I hated that.

Going to see Dr. Conner was in the end, a last resort to appease Renée. It seemed I had already lost Charlie; I didn't want to lose my mother too.

Sessions started out as once a week, but for some reason became more frequent at the time went on. During one of the later ones, Conner suggested the use of behavioural therapy, to help her initiate what I was otherwise reluctant to express during our conversations. I remember being confused with the concept, but Renée urged me to take the treatment. And if I admit it now, I think at that point I would have tried anything to make _him_ stop haunting me.

I didn't even remember that particular session, nevertheless what I said in it. Just what happened afterwards. That's when this whole fuck up started.

"Isabella, where did you go just now?" Dr. Roberts brought me back to the present. Unfortunately. That was my life now: explaining and defending one stupid mistake I couldn't even remember.

"I was thinking back to my time with Dr. Conner," I replied.

Even if I did really admit everything to her, whatever happened to doctor, patient confidentiality? I began to trust her towards the end.

"Dr. Conner was trying to help you. During your time with her, your confessions to belief of vampirism and lycanthropy went beyond her expertise on psychoanalysis. Here at Tranquille, your delusions can be dealt with more accordingly. Do you understand that?"

Hell no. This guy didn't know anything. Neither did Conner. They both believed that the vampires were all a figment of my imagination, that I'd imagined the reclusive but undeniably beautiful Cullen family back in Forks, as a group of mythical creatures. They didn't believe that what I said was actually the truth – how could they, I had a hard time believing it myself at the very beginning.

I just had to wait it out, stick to my story of denying any admittance to the belief in vamps and friends that could turn into giant wolves and hoped that somehow they would come to the conclusion that this was all just a big misunderstanding. _Shit, I was never getting out of this place._

And no matter how many psychological explanations they threw at me I was not going to cave into believing the logical explanation, even when the truth is so impossible. _I have to remember him._

I might have revealed the truth on some unconscious level to an untrustworthy source, but I had learned my mistake. No good can come from telling your therapist that you believe in mythical creatures. _Bella, take a mental note of that..._

He takes my silence as answer to his question.

"Isabella, I know you were close to Dr. Conner and that you trusted her. Me, on the other hand, you have just met. I don't expect you to act the same around me as you did with her, not for a long time. That sort of trust takes time. I'm willing to wait and I hope that you are too. But you have to understand, that Bella, your health and welfare is in my best interest. All I want to do is help you get better."

He's amazing this guy, isn't he?

"That's quite a speech, but with all due respect Doc, frankly I don't want your help, nor do I need it" I replied, while quickly standing from the lounger wanting to escape. My lack of exit routs however halted my movement within the first step, before I grudgingly walked to the window.

There was nowhere for me to go. Not anymore.

Roberts realised my predicament. "Bella, perhaps this meeting was too premature of your move here. How about if we residual a session for some other time, perhaps when you're more settled down?"

He just didn't get it, did he? "I don't belong here." I said softly, leaning my forehead on the cool window pane. Even to me, my voice sounded lost and feeble, knowing that this is my life now and I wasn't going anywhere.

I hear his pen scratching across the paper behind me as he wrote something down. I refuse turn as he said, "I have a free hour Thursday where we can continue this discussion." Great, two days from now, couldn't wait. "I really hope you will open up to me somewhat by then. I can even make arrangements for if you want to speak to me sooner. Just pop by whenever you wish to talk."

I took a deep breath that caught in my throat before slowly turning towards him with my eyes to the floor. "Are we done?" I said simply. He seemed disappointed, expecting me to open up at the last moment perhaps.

"Yes, Bella. We are done for today." As I quickly made my way to the door – run more like – Dr. Roberts continued, "Maybe it would be beneficial for you to drop by the canteen for lunch. Perhaps even acquaint yourself with some of the other patients there. You need to make friends here; after all... this is your home now."

As I heaved open the door, his parting words seemed to be the final nail in my metaphorical coffin. Home sweet home.

""***""**

***Martha Mitchell Effect: "****the process by which a psychiatrist, psychologist, or other mental health clinician mistakes the patient's perception of real events as delusional and misdiagnoses accordingly."**

**Phew, main back story completed, but don't worry I'll be doing flashbacks in future chapters. Please review! xx**


	3. Chapter 2

**This chapter is unbeta'ed.**

**AN: Big thanks to the few that are following this story. Sorry for the late update.**

**Disclaimer: All recognisable characters are property of Stephaney Meyer. No infringement intended. **

Chapter 2

Outside the doc's office I pause for a minute, not quite knowing which direction to take. My options were limited, with only two corridors extending either side of me. Listening out, I heard talking coming from the distance to the right. To the left absolute silence. I wasn't lost, just momentarily deciding my immediate future.

Going right would mean I was following the Dr. Roberts' instructions: going to the kitchen; eating a healthy lunch – providing much needed nutrients for my wasting away body; meeting fellow patients; and making friends. Above all, going right gave the impression of someone who wants to get better. I would be accepting my situation and making an effort with what I've got. I would be doing what the Doctor ordered, as they say. _But to the left..._

Well, really... what chose did I have.

As I walked down the left corridor I couldn't help the smile that came to my face. The first one in probably a month. But if this is my home, I've decided I could do what I want in it. Besides I wasn't even hungry and making friends seemed kind of pointless if my plan to shut up and get the hell out worked. I would be running into the horizon as soon as they opened the doors, leaving all acquaintances behind without a moment's thought.

The only problem was; my room was to the right, meaning I would either have had to wait for the hustle and bustle of the lunch crowd to move on and turn back or find a different route with the same destination.

The lure of new scenery as opposed to standing stationary in the sickly sweet coral coloured corridor made my decision, as well as the risk of getting caught if I stayed there.

I continued my walk with an air of indifference, not knowing what I'd find around the corner or who I'd meet. My wish would have been to return to the comforts of my small, yet comfy room without any interruption with other patients or attendings along the way. This was me; exploring my new 'home' and I didn't want any unwanted company.

Then again, I wasn't really alone. The security cameras at regular intervals made sure of that.

My steady pace echoed off the walls as I passed locked doors and barred windows. I knew they were locked because of the excessive use of "NO ENTRY", "STAFF" and "AUTHORISED PERSONNEL ONLY" signs plastered across the wood, much like a not-so-subtle slap in the face to all others that were trapped, like me. I might have also tried one or two doors at the beginning in an attempt to escape. _Like they would have made it that easy, but I had to try._

No, for me, like many others in there, the hope for freedom laid just beyond. An exit so close, yet so far was blocked by an inch thick of wood. If _he_ had turned me and I had become a vampire, those doors would have been nothing but kindling in my wake and I would already be in the next state over. Then again, if I was a vampire I wouldn't be in this mess in the first place and I would be with _him_. _No Bella, don't even go there._

I came to the end of the corridor where my pace slowed down before coming to a stop completely. I was met with the sight of a generously sized square garden which seemed to be in what I assumed was the centre of the Institute, enclosed within glass windows, with corridors surrounding each of the four sides. Unlike the scenery outside, this patch of nature looked cared for and lively. Ignoring my unsightly reflection, I focused on the arrays of brightly coloured flowers greeting me on my side of the square, with a small tree directly opposite surrounded by an arrangement of some sort of purple coloured flower. It was a poor imitation of _our_ meadow, but there was just something about it that reminded me of him. Our time together there was so short, yet so memorable. _What I would give to just go back to that perfect moment, where it was just him and me..._

_Stop it!_ Remembering hurts so much more when you have to come back to reality. Especially _this_ reality.

There was what looked like a generous rose patch to the left and several sacks of soil stacked up on the right. It seemed happy and tranquil – quite the opposite of the rest of the hospital that forced the appearance of cheerfulness to an extent which completely oversteped the mark, making it clearly false and empty.

I assume the area was a place where patients are encouraged to explore their gardening creativity, growing and nurturing a delicate life source and making something beautiful out of some basic ingredients. There's probably some metaphor and moral to the whole experience, but I'm just glad they trust the patients enough not to stab each other with a pitchfork or kill themselves with overdose on pesticide poison.

As my eyes focused on this flora and fauna wonderland, I had to admit, I really was quite beautiful. Out of habit, I checked the glass door, but what a surprise, it was locked and instead leant my forehead against the surprisingly warm glass and let my eyes wander around this sanctuary.

No cameras that I could see... that's interesting.

I wasn't sure how long I stood there for, but for the time being, simply being witness to the beautiful site, letting my mind wonder to better times and with no eyes witness to me, it seemed too good an opportunity to pass up. Therefore, when this peaceful moment was disrupted, I was not happy.

"Excuse me, but are you Isabella Swan?" The voice startled me it's too close and in a knee-jerk reaction, I bang my head on the window. Holding the heal of my hand to my forehead, I whip around to face my interruption.

What faced me was a tall man standing in the shadows, just inside the corridor I came down through. He looked to be around my age, if not slightly older, complete with a wide smile and a waiting hand outstretched. I noticed he was wearing a thin blue wristband much like the one they slapped on me when I first arrived – he's defiantly a patient. He _looked_ fairly normal, with his clean cut attire and neatly cut dirty blond locks, but I knew from experience, looks could be deceiving.

Years being taught good manners however, I gave a tentative smile despite the oncoming headache and reluctantly took his cold hand, receiving a bone crunching handshake in the process.

When he released me, I couldn't help to test the use of my fingers; not being used to such strength in a mere greeting since the Cullens. His immediate frown at my actions was mixed with an expression of horror.

"Oh shit, I'm sorry! Are you all right – do you want to go to the clinic? I know the way, if you'll just follow me, I'm sure they can find you something for the pain–"

His worry was immediately heartening and annoying, leaving me with little room to reply, "No, no!"I almost shout, as he was already turning me in the direction of what I assume is the clinic, "Really, it's not so bad. I'm just a little delicate. It's nothing." I added for good measure.

He looked unsure at my explanation, before reaching for my injured hand, and questioning me, "May I?" With a nod on my part, trusting he wouldn't hurt me further, he brought the hand in question up to his face for speculation, turning it this way and that, looking for any damage.

After what seemed like a lifetime had gone by, he finally looked up into my eyes and gave me another warm smile, with his eyes a clear window to his relief.

"Its fine, no damage." He said as he softy drops my hand back to my side, "Again, I'm sorry." He adds as he nervously scratched his neck, his eyes momentary lingering on my hand. "I honestly don't know my own strength!" he laughed.

His carefree smile was infectious and I felt my own lift in the process. "Don't worry about it, "I reassured him, "I've had much worse!" _If only he knew._

With no reply from him and having not much else to say on the matter, my eyes returned to the floor, waiting for him to either continue or go away. After a minute or so, I tried to peak at him through my fringe wondering what his problem was.

His expression was of someone trying to word out a curious puzzle – his brow was lowered, yet there was the tiniest hint of a smile in both corners of his mouth. It was disconcerting to say the least, like I was his new experiment.

"So, um..." he broke the silence with a few words of wisdom, "Before I nearly fractured your hand, you never answered my question."

Oh right, "Um sorry, yeah... er..." Okay, didn't sound like I was any better, what was he saying? "Sorry – short term memory loss from the bump," I continued with a point to my throbbing head, "Could you repeat the question?"

His smile was at its widest now and as if to infuriate me more, he repeats in the question at the slowest possible pace, "Are you Isabella Swan?"

"Yeah. Although it's just Bella." I answered with a slight nod.

"Great! I'm Adrian, pleased to meet you finally. There's been talk of you all week, although not many people have actually had the pleasure of meeting you."

_Well that's because I've been in isolation._ "Oh, I've just been busy... you know, unpacking and... stuff." I said as a way to explain the past week. _All week? Come on Bella..._

He gave a short laugh, but plays along, "Wow, they let you bring that much stuff?"

"Nope," I said, popping my 'P', "I'm just a lousy un-packer."

"I thought it was the other way round..?"

"You would think..." _Could this conversation get any worse?_

Another awkward silence. "So..." he started, perhaps trying to somehow save his first impression, "Admiring the garden?"

The chance of topic was welcoming, "Yes I was actually. It nice to see some honest beauty in a place that is otherwise so..."

"Fake?" he asked.

"Yeah. Everything and everyone just seems like their trying too hard, you know?"

"I suppose that does seem the appearance to a newcomer. I'll agree with you on the image of this place, but the people aren't that bad."

"Mm..." I trailed off, not wanting to say what I truly felt and upset him. "Anyway," I continued, "Is there a time schedule for the patients to work in this place," pointing to the garden, "Or is it some sort of privilege for those that behave." If it's the latter, I'm screwed.

"Are well, it's a little bit of both. You have to be of a certain mental standard to be trusted to take on gardening." At my inquiring expression, he continued, "You know, if you are considered to be a danger to yourself or others, for example, you wouldn't be allowed in there."

"Do _you_ get a schedule to go in there?" I asked.

"No. I can't say I ever have. " He replied simply.

"Oh." Great, I was alone in a corridor that has no cameras, with a guy that is either inclined to harm himself or turn around and kill me if he so wishes. And judging by that handshake, I wouldn't stand a chance.

"Oh no!" obviously catching my frightened expression, he explained with a smile, "I can't go out their because of my allergies, I get into a sneezing fit if I come within a meter of a flower. Anyway I prefer the arts and crafts course, above gardening. I feel I can truly express myself with a lick of paint and since starting, I've learned to appreciate the calming effect it has on my mental wellbeing."

"Wow, it's like you're an advertisement for creativity as a solution for being crazy."

At my use of the C word, his expression darkened. "Well it's helped me greatly... just look at me now, do I look like I'm crazy?"

If he would have asked me that not a minute ago, I would have said no. Yet with tall, lean stature towering over me, accompanied with his intimidating expression, wild eyes and let's not forget that bone crushing handshake, I would have to say...

"Er... yes." At that admittance, his face to my relief broke into a smile.

"Well little one, you'll have to get use to that, we're all crazy in this place." He said, nudging me slightly, probably bruising my upper arm. At least he didn't kill me.

"Well, it was nice meeting you," I finally said, "But I really should be going, you know... I got to get to lunch,"

"Oh well, that's why I'm here. You've actually missed lunch completely, but they've sent me to find you as you didn't show up at breakfast either. I thought you might be hungry. I can sneak you into the kitchen, you see, I have access" he proudly told me.

"I'm not sure. I don't really want to get into trouble–"

"It's no trouble. I do it all the time." He replied, already dragging me back down the corridor I came from by the sleeve of my shirt. I was kind of reluctant to go somewhere with this guy alone, but in some way he kind of reminded me a little bit of Emmett. Looks wise there was no resemblance, yet his happy go lucky attitude and infectious smile were all similar to that larger-than-life Cullen. It's comforting and heart breaking to have such a reminder staring me in the face.

"So where do you live?" he asked, before seeing my confused expression and continuing, "You know, before the move here I mean."

"Oh, well I shortly lived with my mom and her husband in Jacksonville, before that I lived with my dad."

"In Florida?" he repeats, with that confused look on his face again, "But isn't it really sunny there?"

"Year, well... I don't tan too easily." I said assuming he's referring to my pasty parlour, although the confusion still remains on his face.

It was silent between us as we made the last bit of the trip to the kitchen. He still seemed confused by my statements and I was getting more confused by his confusion.

Finally we get to one of the locked doors I passed on my little walk. Just as I'm about to tell Adrian, he pulled out a tiny key and unlocked it. Turning back to me with a shit eating grin, he slowly opened the door like we're about to walk in a treasure room. _Well I suppose we are._ Warm smells of homely cooking greeted me as we stepped in, but the best part was that there seemed to be no one present.

"Just take whatever you want, they always cook too much."

My empty stomach was spoilt for choice with the array of different food before me. Sure it was all mass produced and some dishes actually bordered on looking severely overcooked, but Jesus, I was fucking starving! I might have actually drooled a little bit. For crazy kid grub, this didn't look that bad. As I quickly grabbed a cold piece of food in the first dish I find, I asked, "Who are you talking about?" before taking a big bite.

Then, in a distinctly feminine voice, I heard a loud, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?" _Busted!_

I turned quickly to the entrance almost chocking on my mouthful in the process. Wide eyed, I was shit scared of getting into trouble and getting put into isolation again. Would they do that for eating a bit of turkey sandwich?

But I'm relieved when Adrian bustles past me and gives a huge hug to the lady in to doorway. Now my fear has passed I can clearly make out the features of who could only be described as someone's grandmother. And as Adrian introduces us, apparently she is.

"Bella, this is my nana Lily Aldred, she's works in the kitchen here at Tranquille Institute."

"Oh Adrian, stop!" she said in a bubbly voice with a smile a perfect reflection to the one on Adrian's face. About two feet shorter than Adrian she seems the most delicate creature I had ever met, even above Alice. Her features that I first notice included the tufts of white hair that she has professionally assembled into a 60's do, her flowery clothing and the numerous religious charms hanging around her neck. "Bella is it?" she asks walking over to me "It's great to finally meet you. Adrian has told me so much about you."

As she quickly hugs me, I see Adrian over her shoulder, nervously scratching his neck and gives me an embarrassed smile when he sees me looking.

"Bought in another stray have you?" she continued, looking back at Adrian, "I'll doubt we'll have any food left at this rate."

At her statement, I put the measly leftovers from my sandwich back on the nearest plate.

"Oh no child!" she exclaimed, when she saw what I'd done, "I didn't mean it like that. Of course you can help yourself to whatever you want, but since you're here, why don't I whip you up a proper meal, hm?"

With those kind sunken eyes shimmering up at me, how could I say no? "Well, if it's not too much trouble." I said, noticing that my stomach was practically eating itself by now. I couldn't even remember the last proper meal I had.

"No trouble, no trouble! Adrian could you pass me that packet over there..."

As I watched her flurry about the cosy kitchen with a permanent smile upon her face, I said to Adrian who had quickly returned beside me, "So this is how you've got access to the kitchen?"

"Well yeah," he replied with a shrug, "But is sounds a lot cooler when I don't mention that it's because my grandmother gave me a key."

Even in the process of making what I looks like a generous portion of some sort of pasta, nana Lily was still able to make her way over the where we were standing to give Adrian an age defying smack on the arm.

"Ow!" he exclaimed, like she actually hurt him, "What was that for?"

"For calling your poor old nana un-cool" she replied.

"I didn't actually say you were un-cool, just... you know..."

"Anyway," she continued, still smirking at her grandson, "Bella dear, Adrian says you got here last week, but I haven't seen you in any of the activity rooms or at meal times. Been sneaking off have you?"

"Er... well, I've been..."

"Unpacking" Adrian inputs with a sly grin at me.

"Oh well I suppose you needed time to settle down" she continued, unaware of the glare I'm giving her grandson, "Have you made any friends yet?" She reminds me of Renée, asking if I'm getting along with the other boys and girls.

"Well, Adrian is the first person I've actually had a decent conversation with."

"Oh, well why don't you two go back to your room, get to know each other and I'll bring your food up in a short moment?" she asked, directing her gaze at me.

"That's a brilliant idea!" exclaimed Adrian, already pulling me to the door. Honestly, he's acting like a little boy... _so_ like Emmett.

"Ok." I agreed, not really knowing what else to say, "My room is 12C."

I hear a, "See you in a moment Bella!" before I'm dragged out into the corridor.

"She seems nice." I say to Adrain as we walk the short distance to my room.

"She's great... one of the few friends I have in here," he said solemnly, "She understands me completely and she's the only family I've got left."

To this I seriously didn't know what to say, so we made the rest of the walk in silence.

The institute would be considered small for its profession, but I would estimate it to be about twice the size of Forks hospital. Downstairs, it's very much like a normal high school, with classrooms, areas sectioned off for extracurricular activities and a canteen open to anyone walking down the corridor. Behind closed doors, however the nature of the building becomes known, with therapy sessions in succession around every corner, rooms transformed into offices for the numerous attending, helpers and psychiatrists, and a hospital wing, prepared to administer anything from paracetamol to electroshock therapy. The whole image is sickly professional and proper to reassure visitors of sending their mentally ailing loved ones to the perfect place of understanding and solutions.

Upstairs was another matter as the bedrooms clearly proved that this was an institute for _adolescents_. The reference from our parents and/or personal therapist before admittance, along with our diagnosis, created a basis allowance of trust and where we stand in taking care of ourselves. The patients all along my corridor, including myself were considered trustworthy and harmless, meaning the whole hallway had more of a personality due to the graffiti and decorations on the walls and doors. Don't get me wrong, the cameras were much more frequent here, but there seemed to be a silent bargain of our freedom upstairs if we could all place nice downstairs.

As I opened my door, decorated with fairy lights – courtesy of Renée, in her attempt to make my room "more homey", I was suddenly reluctant to let Adrian in, I mean he was crazy – who knew what he could do to me behind closed doors. "Um... you know, Adrian you don't really have to babysit me until she comes up–"

"Nonsense! I'm not babysitting you. We're friends; I just want to get to know you." And with that he barged past me into the room. _Hmm, Friends._

"Wow, you really weren't kidding when you said you were lousy at unpacking" he says, sweeping his eyes over the bomb of clothes, books and other homely comforts that had exploded in my room.

"I wish" I replied, trying to move some of the clothes to make room for Adrian to sit down, while quietly praying to all gods I knew that I hadn't left any embarrassing stuff like a stray tampon or pair of knickers lying around. _Coast looks clear._

"So..." I said, turning to face Adrian, who was still looking around like he was making a personal inventory, "How long have you been here?" I asked, trying to make conversation, although I was a little curious.

Sitting down on the lone cream armchair in the corner, he said "Well they've diagnosed me as ... you know..." _crazy_ he starts with a smirk, "for some time now, but I only just moved here a few months back. You get used to it... the schedules and the treatment. I've made some really great friends..." he trailed off.

"I don't think I'll ever get used to it." I murmured sadly. His expression showed he understood.

Sitting on the bed, I played with a stray bit of thread on one of my pillows, not quite knowing why I said that. _I'm _not_ staying here._

Within a few minutes, Adrian came over to sit next to me on the bed. Taking my hand in both of his, he said in a soothing voice, "Perhaps not... but you're not alone in this. Everyone here is in the same situation." Lifting my chin gently with his hand, he brought my eyes up to focus on his.

Here, I finally got a good look at him. He's quite beautiful really – I wouldn't necessarily say handsome, his features were too delicate – the shaping of his almond eyes, the full lips, his wavy hair, the smooth jaw and the sun kissed coloured skin. When I looked into his eyes, I was almost lost in the darkness. They immediately remind me of _his_ eyes when we first met, but where _his_ reflected the raw hunger like a bottomless pit, Adrian's had specks of light in the form of auburn and amber. It was bizarre and mesmerizing.

"Bella," his cool breath caressed my face, "I... this is... ok, well I really need to ask you something and its going to sound kind of crazy" he said with a smirk, yet his eyes gave away to his nervousness.

If I could have guessed, judging by his closeness, he was going to kiss me. Was that why he came into my room? No way would I be ready for a relationship, even if I wasn't freaked out by him at the moment. Not so soon after... probably not ever.

"Do you... I mean, are you...shit! " he starts, but lets out a growl at the last second, quickly standing and moving to the other side of the room in a jerky twist of limbs. Crossing his arms tightly across his chest, his sudden position was both defensive and angry, as he quickly paced the room mumbling to himself.

I wasn't sure what to do. His whole form seemed suddenly agitated, like the very cells of his being have kicked into overdrive vibration. Listening intently, I tried to hear what he was saying.

"I thought she was... I was _so sure_... I had hoped... not alone... all the signs... but of course... _Florida?..._ maybe..."

"Adrian, I really don't think–" My words halt him in his tracks and he slowly turned to face me.

"Bella, I just... I have to ask this. I have to get it out of the way and I _need_ to know"

With a deep breath of confidence, he kneels so we are eye level, before saying in one breath, "Bella, do you really believe in vampires?"

""***""**

**So, how do you guys like Adrian? I wasn't sure about adding a completely new character, but I am soooo excited about him. And I haven't just added him as a source of eye candy until Edward gets back. He is relevant, I promise! ;)**

**Please review! xx**


	4. Chapter 3

**This chapter is unbeta'ed.**

**AN: Was going to post this chapter sooner, but got a bit distracted since I received my A-Level results yesterday. I ended up having a mini celebration by watching a marathon of Dexter and eating Subway cookies. Yum! ;)**

**This includes the first flashback in the story. We get to see a little a Jacob. Be warned I am a Team Edward all the way, so yeah, Jake's kind of an A-hole in this. Go fig.**

**Disclaimer: All recognisable characters are property of Stephaney Meyer. No infringement intended.**

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 3<span>

"Bella, do you believe in vampires?" Adrian repeats, looking deeply into my eyes.

He might as well have slapped me. It would have been less of a shock. My situation wasn't supposed to be public knowledge. This was all I needed; some nosy psychotic patient sticking his nose where it didn't belong. Why was he asking me this, _how did he even know?_

"What?" I cried, my voice a clear indication to my anger and rising fear I was unable to stop from bubbling to the surface, "How... why... a–"

"Bella, I sorry" he stumbled on his words, turning his eyes towards the floor. "Shit, I didn't mean to say it outright like that, it's just–"

"What the fuck are you even talking about?" I asked, standing up. I refused to take this conversation sitting down. My first priority was to steer him away from the truth. Plead ignorant viability to the very existence of mythical creature and try to act normal. Hell, I was normal; I just seemed to befriend a variety of extraordinary people. But the point was; if he was snooping around in my records, I was going to report on his ass so fucking fast, he wouldn't know what hit him.

"Well Cassie said–"

"You've talked to someone else about this? Does everybody know?"

"Of course not! At least, I don't think so..." seeing the fury on my face, he knew this was the wrong direction to take, "Please understand I didn't mean to insult you. I know what you've been though and I understand why you think I'm the enemy here, but you have to trust me on this. I just... I just needed to know the truth." By the end, his voice was incredibly earnest. He had kept his position on the bed, allowing me to maintain a higher physical position and gain some sort of strength in this argument. For that's what this was: a full blown argument. He didn't know me at all, like he actually thought I would fall for his quick questions and imploring eyes. _Think again._

By now I was pacing back and forth in front of him, fed up with his presence and calculating a way to get him out of my room without causing a scene or any broken bones, at least not mine.

"So you just wanted to find out if the new girl is as crazy as they all said she was, is that it?" I cried, feeling my eyes fill up in embarrassment, "Was it your job was to report back to your friends so you could all have a good laugh at my expense?"

"No Bella, I never meant to hurt you, I just–"

" –want to get the details of why they shoved me in here?" by now traitor tears were spilling over my lids, working their way down my face from my humiliation in front of this stranger.

"Bella, we are all in the same situation. We are all crazy here, but–"

"I'm NOT FUCKING CRAZY!" I scream.

"Whoa! What's going on here?" Both our heads swivelled towards the door, which I hadn't even notice open, until nana Lily stood inside the frame, holding – god bless her – a plate full of chicken pasta and a slice of chocolate cake.

"Adrian was just leaving." I said quickly, discreetly wiping my cheeks away from both of them.

"No, Bella..." mumbled Adrian, reluctantly standing up and daringly reached out to me.

"Adrian, I think it's best if you made your way back to your room" Lily said as she gently, though forcefully pushing him towards the door.

He gave me one final look of regret before lightly closing the door behind him.

"What was all that about?" starts Lily quietly, afraid I'd give her the same treatment I had just bestowed upon her grandson.

"Nothing, I don't want to talk about it."

Surprisingly, she left it as that and realising she still had the tray, evenly placed it on my desk near the window. The food looked mouth-watering, even on a paper plate, but my appetite seemed to have gone with Adrian out the door. "Just bring the tray back whenever you want to," she said, patting me on the cheek as I just stood there looking at a lone green sock on the floor.

"Bella," she waits before I reluctantly turn towards her standing by the door, "Adrian is a sweet boy, but his point doesn't necessarily always get across the way he hopes," Seeing I'm about to contradict her, she quickly continued, "but he's sick, more so than anyone one else here and for the time being... maybe it would be best not to be alone with him." And with that she walked out and closed the door.

Refusing to think about what had just happened, about why I was here, about _him_, I shut my mine off, curled up into a ball on the bed, rejected the quilt and cried myself into unconsciousness.

When I opened my eyes, my bedroom was submerged in darkness. My belongings, the desk and the armchair were all un-shapely shadows in a mass of nothing – painted in an array of deep endless colours to create my own personal midnight. At the edge of sleep, I allowed myself to imagine I was back in my own room in Forks. I could almost hear Charlie snoring down the hallway and the light trickle of raindrops on the roof. This was my happy place.

I remember the time when _he_ used to sneak into my room, all that time ago. For a moment, I think I was still dreaming, that my mind had created yet another vivid scene for me to enjoy. A tantalising situation one of which I was denied during the day because he said it was too dangerous. I loved these dreams because he was here for me. Unlike reality. In the dream he would always say he needed me, wanted me, before slowly and carefully waking an inner need, otherwise undiscovered until that very moment. His lips and his caresses, all promises for release... building... building, until… being disrupted in a blink of an eye. Like reality, he still says he wouldn't be able to control himself, that I was too tempting. Then he was gone, leaving me still yearning for him.

I felt blind in a sea of darkness, seeking a light that I had only managed to get a glimpse of. Would I ever find it again or am I doomed to spend the rest of eternity in this nothingness?

A lone tear slipped down my cheek and my heart cracked further with the absence of him.

A swift movement to the right, near my chest of drawers, caught my eye and I cried out.

"Shh, Bella... shh!" the shadow spoke soothingly in a deep, apprehensive voice, silently moving forward, "I'm not going to hurt you."

Oh my God. "Ed- Edward?" Even in the dream, or what I thought was a dream, my mind was sluggish, but I knew he shouldn't be here. Sitting up slightly, I had to see for myself. "You came back."

Tears filled my eyes are he reached the bed, soothing me back onto the mattress. I knew he'd come back for me. I knew all along he loved me as much as I loved him.

Leaning over to stroke my jaw, his face was still immersed in shadow, but his extremely cold skin and breath was unmistakably inhuman; familiar.

As he leant forward still, my senses were overridden by his presence, but as I looked closer, his appearance only heightened my confusion. Focusing, he seemed the wrong shape if that made sense; his shoulders too thin and his face too round. His hair looked longer... and perhaps lighter. Taking my face in both his hands, I noticed his smell was different too. _Yet he was so familiar._

"Bella... I am so, so sorry." He voice held so much emotion; pain, self loathing, guilt.

I whispered the only thing I could, overwhelmed with complete contentment at feeling whole once again after so many months of depression, "Edward... I love you." I knew he could hear my quite declaration and I just wanted him to know the truth. I needed him and I loved him. If I proved how much, maybe this time he would stay.

He closed the gap between us further, avoiding my mouth and instead lightly brushing his cool lips across my cheek, down my jaw and to my neck.

Opening his mouth, his cool breath across my heated skin made me shiver. There was no warning as he suddenly pierced through my skin with his razor sharp teeth. Before I could cry out in pain, he placed a strong hand across my mouth, using his whole body to still my flailing limbs.

_My god, the pain!_ This was too real to be a dream! What's happening? Why is he..?

My thoughts themselves ran into one another as the loss of blood affected my body and mind. Memories and dreams; seeping into one another like paint on a pallet creating a murky blanket over my thoughts. The meadow, the ballet studio, his house, his bed, his face… and the pain when _he_… no, when _James_ bit my hand – only a small inclination of what I was feeling now.

He was killing me. _My love was actually killing me..._

I woke with a start, sitting up on my bed and cupping my neck. My breathing refused to slow down with adrenalin coursing through my veins after such a realistic nightmare and I break into a cold sweat. _Well that's a new one. _

With the cruel images and phantom pain of the piercing burn repeating on a loop in my head like a horror film, I nearly didn't make it to the wastepaper bin, before throwing up my stomach lining. _Good thing I didn't eat that pasta in the end._

Leaning over the bin, I clutched my forehead and squeeze my eyes tight.

I was used to the nightmares about _him_. Sometimes even welcomed them. Ever since they left I had had one every night without fail. But that one was completely different. Frighteningly so.

The most popular consisted of a repetition of out goodbye in the forest, with him running vampire speed into the distance and me trying to follow, as if running in sand, howling out to him.

I've even had a couple that simply recalled our intimate moments in our meadow – as my subconscious own little sick joke, making me remember.

But this...

I retched over the bin again, but nothing came up. _This is just great. God, really, like you haven't done enough to me already? _

Looking up to the window, I saw light shining from beneath the curtain. How long had I slept? Turning toward the clock on my bedside table I saw the time was six forty. Was that AM or PM?

Not wanting to even try to go back to sleep and be faced with whatever other horror show my mind could generate, I dozily gathered some fresh clothes and my toiletry bag and made my way to the bathroom down the hall.

Noticing the sheer lack of talking, movement or any sounds otherwise, I decided that it must have been AM. _What a great start to the day._

Pushing open the door to the showers, I was relieved to find no one else there. Last time a girl make a huge commotion after being caught by a nurse when trying to throw up her pills. She had to be sedated and escorted – more like dragged out – out by two burly attendings.

This time, I seemed to find myself alone and had my pick. Nothing like a nice scolding hot power shower to loosen the images of your ex trying to kill you.

Opening my bag which held only the products authorised by the Institute, I got an overwhelming longing for the stuff I wasn't allowed to bring. Shampoo, body wash and other toiletries – they were okay, but I really didn't know what I was going to do when I ran out. Clothes – they must be modest in colours black, grey, blue or dark green to encourage uniformity (to be honest I was just glad they let me bring my own in the first place). IPod gone. Phone gone. Shaver, oh! – I was really going to miss that one.

While under the cascading water, I let my mind drift in anything other than last night. I still felt slightly sick, but my hunger was at the moment a priority, so perhaps a visit to the canteen would be beneficial for breakfast this morning.

I really hoped I didn't bump into Adrian today. With our argument still fresh in my mind, I wasn't sure what I would say to him. Then again I was kind of getting a little lonesome and any company would be better than a day alone with my thoughts. Maybe I could introduce myself to some other patients – like the Doc said – make friends. And even though Adrian was a complete ass, what he said was true; we're all in the same situation, might as well be in it together.

Turning off the water, I could hear the sound of someone sniffling echoed off the titles. Dressing quickly, I made my way out to the sinks where I found a tall girl staring at herself in the mirror.

"Er, Hi." I said, not really wanting to start a conversation, but trying to be polite nonetheless. I shouldn't have worried. As I stood in front of the mirror two sinks over from her, she continued to stare at her reflection, with no indication she even heard me.

Brushing my teeth, I took note of my own appearance reflected back at me. My chin length hair, cut in one of the hairdressers in Jacksonville when Renée decided I needed a new look to cheer me up, had lost its shine; my eyes seemed to be both permanently accompanied by dark shadows and bloodshot whites; my once creamy complexion was now more gray; and my bones themselves were jutting out in an unhealthy manner. Even I didn't recognise myself anymore.

I felt inclined to check my neck this morning as well. After the bite from James, I knew what to look for – the cool temperature, the slightly shiny sheen of the skin and of course the small indentations of teeth. Nothing – not one imperfection on either side of my neck. I was being stupid. _Fucking delusional._ But the dream just felt so real.

I could feel his teeth penetrating the skin, the blood draining out of me.

_Stop._ No one came to you in the middle of the night and drank your blood. If you really believe that, then maybe you are crazy.

With a huff, I continued my morning routine, during which the tall girl hadn't moved an inch. Her eyes were glazed over, with tears or something else I wasn't quite sure. She seemed stiff and hollow. Her eyes seemed more and more lifeless and even though she still hadn't stirred, she was starting to scare the living crap out of me.

"Um... are you okay?" I asked, tentatively reaching for her. As my hand rested on her shoulder, a shudder passed through her, to the point when I could see the shock vibrations move through her individual muscles. Yet she didn't even seem aware that I was touching her.

"Don't even bother getting an intelligible sentence out of that one," said a voice behind me. In the reflection of the mirror I saw a blond girl about my height.

"What's wrong with her?" I asked.

"Er... she's crazy, we all are. Haven't you figured that our yet?" she sneered, turning her delicate features into an ugly expression. Placing her bits and pieces on the sink next to mine, she continued, "She suffers from Nihilistic delusions."

"What's that?" I ask, not really liking her tone, but letting curiosity get the better of me.

"She believes everyone else is dead or that she's dead. I can't remember which, but I don't really give a shit. Honestly, you could walk all over her and she still wouldn't notice."

I wave a curious hand in front tall girl's face, hoping for some response to prove the blond bitch wrong. Nothing.

"So what about you?" I said turning back around. If she was so intent on gossiping about other patients, the least she could do was provide some information about herself. "What's your diagnosis?"

"You first..." she replied, refusing to answer my question while simultaneously ending the conversation.

Packing up my bag, I made my way back to my room, without a second glance at the brunette girl and Blond Bitch. I didn't know their names, but figured that would do for now.

Back in my room, I decided it looked even worse today and I was sure there were more clothes lying around than yesterday. Why did Renée pack this much stuff for me anyway? _Er, maybe 'cause you're going to be staying here for a really long time..?_

I couldn't believe I actually brought someone here to show a clear indication of what an utter slob I am. Although I suppose Adrian doesn't really count.

Climbing over mountainous piles of clothes, I made my way over to the window to pull back the curtains. My view outside is of the parking lot, with a main road stretching parallel to the horizon. They were taunting me, dangling the literal road to my escape right in my face. _Fuckers._

Biting my lip at the chaos of clothes, I wondered if breakfast would be ready, or if I should start tidying up. For some reason even though I enjoyed cleaning – a pastime Charlie was frequently grateful for – when it came to my own room, it was a completely different story.

Breakfast it was then.

Scratching my neck at the phantom pain, I walked down the hall to civilisation. I was wondering if I should pop into the kitchen along the way and give Lily back her tray. I prepared a whole speech on how delicious the pasta and cake was (not having the guts to tell her that they're both sitting in my trash can, uneaten), but my efforts were dashed when I rounded the corner and found the kitchen door locked.

I continued making my way to the canteen and hoped not to meet with the same obstruction. When I got there I was surprised how normal it looked. Much like in a typical high school, it had the basic industrial steel kitchen counter filled with surprisingly tasty looking meal dishes and tables neatly scattered to one side. It was even complete with the odd 'Eat Healthy!' posters arranged behind the counter and a scatted group of kids either already seated with their friends or eagerly queuing for their choice of breakfast.

But once again the room was not complete without the reminder of our imprisonment. The whole back wall was made of a number of barred windows with a solitary fire door to the right. The scenery beyond showed a modest basketball court that had seen better days, and further on, what I'm assuming was a tarp covered swimming pool. It did mention something about outdoor activities in the brochure.

Dragging my eyes from the clear path to freedom, I look back to the arrangements of fresh fruit, breakfast cereals and mass produced hot creations. Mmm... I can practically taste the grease already.

Joining the queue, I took note of my fellow inmates. They all looked normal, but so did Adrian and what an utter creep he turned out to be. In fact most of the patients as the institute were considered lucid enough to be among others and get on with their daily routine. When I first came here I was terrified of being strapped to the bed, having a symphony of screaming patients lulling me to sleep before I too descended into some form of medication induced coma. Lucky for me, everyone seemed in agreement to show no outward signs of mental instability. And I appreciated that.

"Hey, are you moving or what?" asked an annoyingly familiar voice. I turned to find myself face to face with the Blond Bitch from the bathroom. She quickly recognised me too. "Hey it's you. How are you?" she asked with a bright smile, "Are you finding your way around alright?"

"Er..." To be honest I didn't know how to reply to that. Why was she suddenly being nice to me? Great now I have to think up a new name for her. Did she realise what a bitch she was, is she trying to be my friend or does she want something?

"Cat got your tongue?" she continued with a dainty giggle, "Oh, you newbies are always so cute."

"Lillian, knock it off" interrupted the guy in front of me. Turning around to face me and Blond Bitch/Lillian, I got to see his features more clearly. Dark lanky hair shoved away from his face, light skin rivalling that of my own and irritated eyes that were now turned towards my own with what I believe was a permanent frown.

"What the fuck are you looking at, newbie?" _Yes Bella, why are you staring at the crazy kid?_

"Cutler, you would do well to mind your own business."

"You are my business Lillian" snarled Mr Angry. Oh, if looks could kill.

"Oh great... stalker alert!" muttered Lillian to me. Christ is she trying to provoke this guy? Has she seen the size of his arms, he could probably crush us as easily as one would squeeze a stress ball. _I am so not going to last long here._

"Oh, just fuck off and play with your little dollies, no one wants you here Lillian."

At that, Lillian's whole posture imitated that of a little girl. Her lip started to tremble, her eyes started to water and with a quick stomp of her foot, she span around and ran out of the doors. _And the_ _Oscar goes to..._

I turned back around to Mr. Angry, with a scowl of my own, "That wasn't very nice. Who do you think you are?"

And he ignored me. Simply fucking turning to face the front of the queue with his back towards me, like I wasn't even there.

"Excuse me," I lightly pocked his shoulder, "That was really uncalled for–"

"Listen here, newbie," with one swift movement, he was turned back towards me. His size seemed even more imposing when it was towering over me like that. "At the moment you're at the bottom of the social chain. You are _nothing_ and if I was you, I would refrain from getting my nose into other people's business, before you get hurt." _Was that a threat, he wouldn't seriously...?_

"Mr. Cutler, what will it be today" interrupted the guy behind the kitchen counter, and I'm free from this weirdo's penetrating gaze. For now.

I didn't even realize I was holding my breath, but wow – that was intense. Mental note: do _not_ piss him off again.

Moving along the counter, I felt faint. Lack of food was finally catching up to me and all the mouth watering smells was all consuming. I chose my poison.

I couldn't help the cringe of disgust as I looked at the congealed egg, burnt bacon… I think those are supposed to be rolls and I didn't even want to look at the gloopy looking paste at the very end_. They actually make us eat this stuff?_ Where the hell was Nanny Lily and her wondrous cooking skills? Now I really wish I would have eaten that chicken pasta. Choosing the lesser looking evil, my stomach still rumbled at the smell of food. I was practically inhaling the fatty essence as I walked. Unfortunately I wasn't finished yet.

"Name?" said the guy at the end of the counter.

"Isabella. Isabella Swan" I replied automatically. After looking for my name and ticking it off on a clipboard, he proceeded to hand me a small paper cup and some water. My appetiser.

"No hiding any beneath your tongue and no throwing them up later either" he said, as I throw back the handful of pills like a hardcore druggie that I suppose I am now.

Walking towards the tables, the pills leave a bitter taste in my mouth as they travel towards their destination. After already being forced to swallow the concoction of sedatives for the past week, I would have thought to be getting used to the taste. But the experience was simply a reminder of where I am and what was happening to me. A physical metaphor for the psychological explanations constantly forced upon me.

I had to admit, the effects of the medication I've decided weren't that bad. Sure, I got a little drowsy as the drugs wear on and sometimes I actually felt quite nauseous, especially when they give me that deep blue pill, but overall I still felt like myself. I was never completely drugged up that I had no idea who or where I was, so I suppose that's a plus point.

Sitting at an empty table in the corner I take a large mouthful of water, trying to wash away the taste, but soon figured that the burnt bacon would probably do the job better.

Looking out the window I could just make out the car park from my position. As I focused through the heat waves oozing from the tarmac, I saw the Institute's private mini bus parked facing the entrance to the hospital. With the help of the same two meaty attendings, I recognised escorted that girl in the bathroom the other day, they seemed to be unloading new patients.

Even from this distance, it was clear they were putting up a struggle. Kicking, screaming and even biting. Nothing seemed ruled out in this last attempt for freedom. Hell, we'd all been there. In fact I distinctly remember leaving a nice bruise on the shoulder on one of the attendings when he got a little too handy.

I felf a slight rush of adrenalin, followed by disappointment when one of the female patients cleverly delivers a sucker punch to an unaware attending that egotistically thought it would be no problem handling a girl. She got a good couple of metres before being tackled to the ground. _So close. _

As the male attending drags her to through the entrance, the last I see of the girl is her tear stained face in a final expression of agony and I wonder when I too realised the total futility of effort from here on out.

_Flashback_

I was in my room with Jacob at the time, discussing his Easter with Billy and his sister Rachel, as opposed to my dreary holiday under house arrest. He had decided to come down for the last week of the break, before going back to La Push for the new school term.

In typical Jake fashion, after opening introductions to Renée and Phil where made and bone crushing hugs were dispersed, he soaked up the week with me by the poolside, filling me in on Forks not so hot gossip and telling me animated stories of his life as a wolf. I just appreciated his being there. I was glad he was still the same Jake after all that had happened.

There was an unspoken agreement never to bring _him_ up, even after all this time. Jacob understood what I was going through and my reluctance to go to therapy, even though at the beginning I secretly thought he was hoping that, if I left out the big parts, it may help towards finally being able to get over _him _and therefore leaving me free to go out with Jake.

We were sitting on my bed which was covered in the purple quilt Charlie had first picked out for me in Forks, which I had brought with me to Jacksonville. It was midday and the sun was high in the sky as we were discussed my oh so un-fucking-believable confession to Dr Connor in my last session.

My behavioural therapy trial was about two weeks ago to the day, where I somehow let slip about the whole vampires and werewolves thing. I had called Jake that night, sobbing over the phone to him at my stupidity and panic now that they thought I needed further professional help. Dr Conner's meeting the day after with Renée and Phil went even worst. When they came back, a teary Renée was clinging to her husband, both holding pamphlets on schizophrenia and brochures on Mental Institutes. I knew then that the shit had officially hit the fan.

The phone call to Jake was my last resort. With Renée and Charlie both believing I was mentally instable, he was the only person I could talk to at that point.

Locked in my room, with Renée banging on the door, I could hardly steady my breathing to get a coherent sentence out to Jake. He was frantic over the phone, trying to get me to explain why I was so hysterical and when I had finally managed to get it out, from his end there was only silence.

It took a while for him to process what I said and then figure out how to handle it.

But of course there was no way to handle it. I had accentually confessed to knowing the existence of two of the world's most tightly kept secrets. There was no way I could convince Dr Conner or my parents that they truly did exists without endangering the Quileute tribe or the numerous covens around the world, primarily the Cullens. Like they would even believe me. My only hope would be to convince everyone that what I said in that session was just some sort of joke and that I didn't mean what I said.

I had put myself in this mess and I had to get myself out of it.

Jacob's visit, he said, was an obvious response to a best friend in need. But if our initial conversation was any indication, I would have guessed that he was here on Sam's orders, making sure that I didn't endanger the tribe further with my big mouth. To be honest, I think the damage was already done.

"So Bella... what really happened?" he asked carefully, trying not to get a rise out of me that seemed a common reaction these days, "Why did you...?"

"I don't know Jake. I told you I don't remember what happened."

It was quiet for a few minutes and I took the opportunity to look out my window at the predictable blue sky and equally clear Atlantic in the distance. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jacob picking at his nails, a nervous habit I knew he picked up from Billy. He continued, "But something like that doesn't just slip out. Where you planning to say something? What did you hope to achieve?"

"Jacob, you know I would never willingly tell anyone. I promised you I wouldn't."

His slightly twitching eyebrow didn't go amiss, "Jake, seriously. I know the danger it poses for you and... and _them_." Correspondingly, my hesitation at saying their name doesn't go amiss by him and his lowered eyebrows and darkened pupils were but a small reminder of his own feelings towards those _bloodsuckers_.

"Have you spoken much to Renée? Does she believe you?"

"Are you kidding? She thinks the only way to help me now is to send me off to this place called Tranquille something. She's already convinced Charlie that I need to go, but I just don't understand her reaction to all this. I've acted in general the same way since I moved here. I don't know why she suddenly thinks I need to stay in a place where professionals can monitor me 24/7. Like I'm suddenly dangerous or something."

The last part I directed to Jacob in the form of a silent question. Had I changed? Was there something I'm not seeing?

"I don't know Bells. I really just don't...know."

With a huff, I stood and walked from the bed to the window, crossing my arms when I reached it. I didn't know what I was hoping from Jake's visit, but his lack of answers and maybe even his reluctance to empathise was not it. _I was truly alone in this._

I heard him shifting around on the bedspread, but didn't turn as her got up and moved to stand behind me. In the reflection of the glass his dark eyes met my watery ones and he slowly encircled my midriff with his tree trunk arms, while leading his chin on my shoulder. His intent seemed to comfort, but his embrace was just uncomfortable.

For the life of me couldn't help but wish to be embraced by another. In that moment there wasn't anything I wouldn't have given for _him_ to just be there, holding me. To comfort me in a way that's completely natural and loving, knowing the arms around me belonged to the man that I loved with my entire being. For a moment I forget and the lone tear that slowly made its way down my cheek was for _him_ and not my impending predicament.

Shifting his head, I felt Jake's heady breath move slowly across my exposed shoulder towards my neck. His arms tightened around my waist fractionally, as his tentatively lowered his lips to my neck for a kiss. Despite being accustomed to Jacob's total disregard for personal space and his inability to process my current mood, his moist lips and increasingly wandering hands, make me stiffen. _What was he doing?_

"Oh, Bella" he murmured longingly against my skin, continuing placing wet kisses along my neck, despite my obvious discomfort and effort to pry his hands away from my body. This could not be happening. This was a mistake; he's just trying to comfort me. Friends could do this.

"Jake, please don't-" I plead, while trying to wiggle free. My movement seemed to have the adverse effect when his hands suddenly find an exposed portion of my midriff under my tank top before making a quick ascent to just under my chest. His hot fingers seemed almost biting against my soft flesh, not being use to such forceful behaviour. I panic and my breathing quickened twofold. Fight or flight instinct made a sudden appearance and my mind briefly flashed every self-defence movement I could think of. From placing pressure on the carotid artery to remembering to SING, being a cop's daughter made me want to fight back. But being this particular werewolf's best friend, all efforts seemed pointless.

In a quick movement my thrashing arms were suddenly pinned across my chest, keeping me immobile and constricting my breathing somewhat. What was just a second ago a rough yet possibly forgivable misunderstanding had suddenly become something much more serious and increasingly more terrifying.

_Why is he doing this? This is not him. Where is my Jake? I want my best friend back._

"Bella, Bella" he said in a hushed tone too close to my ear, "Fuck, do you have any idea what you do to me?" Panting with a slight thrust of his hips against my back, he answered his own question. _This is a nightmare. This cannot be happening. _

Looking up at the window, I saw Jacob's lust crazed eyes staring back at me. I didn't recognise them. Even his face, contorted in a hungry scowl, was unrecognisable. I'd never seen him like this. This wasn't him… this was something else.

Our heavy gasps condensate on the windowpane as I felt his fingers softly caress the underside of one of my breasts while he maintained a slight trusting of his hips. For a moment, I'm thankful for the material of my bra that stands between his hands and my intimate flesh, but knew if he so wished they would be scraps of colour on the floor before I could even blink.

His breath against my neck prickled, covering my skin with a dirty coating that no amount of soap would ever wash away. Trying to swallow the bitter taste in my mouth I said, "Please Jacob. Don't do this". I choke on the last part, feeling sick in the arms of my best friend, wondering how we got here. Most of all, due to the hardened length pressed against my spine, I was terrified of what his next move would be.

The minutes ticked by, but my heart rate didn't slow, nor had Jacob moved a muscle. I didn't say anything. _What could I say?_ I was trapped.

In the window, I saw his eyes carefully track the tears that took passage down my cheeks, following the curve of my jaw, before methodically falling on his arm restraining me against his chest.

In a sudden movement, he released me.

I took a sudden breath I didn't know I was holding and close my eyes against the lump in my throat. Turning towards him, I leant back along the windowsill, stretching my top as low as it could go and tightly wrapped my arms protectively around myself.

I looked seemingly at nothing, feeling dirty and detached. I tried desperately not to show any outward emotion, but finally felt myself cracking at the seams.

"Bella, I'm-" At his voice, I ran. Towards the door, out into the corridor and down the stairs; as far as I could possibly get away, from him. No distance would ever be enough.

I collided into Renée in the hallway, shocked to find her arms immediately clutching me to her.

"Oh honey, it's going to be alright," she said soothingly as she stroked my hair. What was she talking about? Did she know what just happened? How could she?

Talking between tears, I was a blubbery mess, "Mum, what do you mean… how..?"

God, that was so close. What the hell just happened? Did that really just happen? _Jake would never… but he just nearly did._

I'm going to throw up.

But then I saw it and my speech hiccups to a sudden stop. For a second I forgot what just nearly happened and I gasp. Over her shoulder and through the glass pane in the door, I saw it: the white minibus with the stupid swirly emblem that I'd seen on countless brochures and info packs lying around the house for weeks.

"Bella, baby have you said goodbye to Jake?" Renée continued to ask, while rubbing my shoulder, as if I wasn't feeling absolutely distraught at what she was about to make me do.

_No! No, this can't be it! _How could she spring this on me? Did Jake know?

With the situation becoming clearer, my body shuts down. Surprisingly my breathing had slowed to an even pace as I accessed my surroundings, but the need to vomit was increasingly more prominent. In the corner by the door was my travel bags, which I assumed held all the essentials Renée thought I would need staying at the institute. How and when she did this, I had no idea. _That fucking… I can't believe she's done this all behind my back._ Standing in the kitchen doorway was Phil, obviously waiting in the side-lines in preparation for if and more likely when Renée's grief finally made an appearance.

Finally my eyes landed on the two men in white coats sitting in the lounge, the imported muscle to drag me away to the loony bin. Their limbs seemed way too large for their uniform, which was complete with stupid little bow ties accentuating their tiny shaved heads. They looked back at me with matched stoic expressions, as they stood and walked towards me in a synchronised fashion. In any other situation, their presentation might have actually been comic. As it was, I couldn't see the funny side.

I turned my head swiftly towards Renée, "No, Mom! Please!" I begged. Clinging to her arm, the tears started flowing more freely then, gushing at an embarrassingly fast rate in front of these people. My chest felt like it was being crushed. My ribcage was slowly piercing my lungs and heart, making it impossible to move or breath.

"Shhh! Baby, you're going to be fine" she said, wiping my tear stained face, "Bella, please… Bella!" I tried to force my face away from her, unable to stand the look on her face and her pityingly sweet words of encouragement, but her tug on my chin kept my face central to hers. So I closed my eyes and refused to look at her. Maybe if I kept my eyes close, I'll wake up back in Forks and this would have all been a dream.

"Bella… please honey, if you love me, _please_ do this for me, do this for yourself. You _have_ to understand that you need help. Bella, don't you see. Baby-"

At the brake in her voice my eyes opened on their own accord to saw her watery hazel ones staring back at me. "Bella, I'm sorry but there is only so much I can do as a parent. I feel like a failure already. Please, Bella… I just want my little girl back".

At that moment, with Renée's eyes staring pleadingly into mine, Phil's rigid stance as he stared dejectedly at the floor, those bags waiting by the door, the incident with Jake still fresh in my mind and the two white coats with their twitching biceps just waiting for me to make a scene, I gave up.

For what else could I do? I couldn't stay. Did I even want to stay? I didn't belong here with these people. They had already made that abundantly clear. I realised that now. And I couldn't run, for I had nowhere else to go. They had all backed my into a figurative corner and turned off all the lights, leaving me with no map or even destination to make my escape.

Forcing my hand across my face, I erased my tears and expression, not wanting to give them any satisfaction. With a deep exhale, my heart ached for the life I was about to leave behind. First Forks, now here. I didn't belong anywhere now. No one wanted me.

With three steps, one for each of the loved ones I was leaving behind, without a second glance or even a goodbye, I made my way to the door and slung the bags across my shoulders, batting away the help of the two burly men.

My face was blank, my heart was empty and with a wrench of the door I was down the lawn, towards the minibus, leaving broken pieces of myself to fall among the crazy paving.

"Bella!" I didn't turn my head to see who it was that called me, I no longer cared.

The realisation that I would never see this house, my home again almost seduced me to turn my head and just quickly take one more look for memory. _Look at the apple green door you helped Renée paint four months ago. Look at the garage that holds the motorcycle you helped build with Jake. Look at the flower bed in the front you maintained with Phil. Look at the path, the windows, the cars and the mailbox. Look Bella, just _look_._

But I couldn't. Even with three sets of eyes burning holes into the back of my neck, silently pleading me to turn and show them some sort of reassurance, a vindictive side of me wanted to make them suffer in whatever fraction of what they were forcing me through.

I didn't care. What was the point? My family didn't believe me. They thought I was crazy. My best friend wasn't who I thought he was. _He_… simply left me. I was alone.

_End flashback_

* * *

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**Okay, little depressing. Sorry.**

**And as for Jake, don't hate me. I just couldn't stand the whole love triangle thing in the actual book. This way you can be sure Bella will defiantly NOT end up with him.**

**Reviews make me happy. xx**


	5. Chapter 4

**This chapter is unbeta'ed.**

**AN: Yeah I know, long time no see. Sorry about that. I have actually moved to Germany for a bit – getting used to living alongside the Bavarian mountains with little Germans that don't speak English. **_**Fun.**_

**Disclaimer: No infringement intended. **

Chapter 4

Reeling in the memories of the last time I saw mom and Jake, I feel a sharp pang within my chest. I don't regret how I left them, they betrayed me in every way a person could be betrayed, but the loss of my family, at whatever capacity, became more prominent every day. In a way I had to remember that this was for their benefit more than my own.

I didn't even notice someone heading towards my table until they were actually sitting opposite me. Their bowl of oatmeal and mixed fruit was parody reflection to my bacon and toast.

Sliding away a stray hair that had fallen from my messy bun, I looked up to a surprisingly familiar face. But this couldn't be.

I was shocked; terrified almost. Never did I think she would be here, that she would even find me. Strings of questions seemed to from I my head, tripping over themselves. _How, why, when?_ But I realized none of that mattered, because she was here. Had she come to break me out? Oh thank god, this was all going to be over soon and my experience here would only be just a terrible nightmare.

But she was _here_. Doesn't she realise how dangerous it is? Heck, there's a sunbeam shining across the table. Why would she risk exposure?

"Ali, what the fuck?!" was the best my buzzed out brain could come up with such short notice.

"Hi, you must be Bella" she calmly replied with an adorable smirk and mischievous twinkle in her eyes. I knew that look.

Okay, now I was confused. This girl in front of me was the spitting image of Alice. No, it was Alice. At least…

"You're… you're not Alice?" I asked dumbly. Again words seemed to have escaped me and I still couldn't seem to get an intelligent sentence out. Fuck, my mind seriously couldn't take something like this so early in the morning, and the drugs certainly didn't help. My brain must just be playing tricks on me. That was it. Perhaps it's just a side effect from the drugs; like having headaches or fatigue. Like seeing your vampire ex best friend sitting across from you in the cafeteria of a mental institution that also happens to be your new residence. Yep, just a side effect.

Okay Bella, think. Would Alice really be here? Thousands of mile away from her last known address of Forks, in _here_ of all places?

Fine, she's not Alice. Yet I swore she's the spitting image of her. _But then why was she...? _Of course… Because she _wasn't_ Alice.

Unable to stop the unbelievable weight of disappointment that suddenly filled my entire being, I couldn't help once again feeling betrayed by the Cullens. Although I had to give them the fact that they might not even know where I am. Or they just didn't care. Would they come for me if they did, knowing what I've said to get myself in here? _Let's not open _that_ door._

"I'm not who you think I am. You don't know me" she said with a timid smile, obviously aware of my sudden change in my emotional state. Well thank you for that revelation, why couldn't you have said that a minute ago? And since we're on the topic of who you _aren't_, mind telling me who the hell you _are_?

_Bella, take a breather._ Stranger things have happened then running into an Alice doppelganger.

Hours seemed to have passed since I first looked up. My head was swimming, trying to make sense of who I was seeing. My eyes pleadingly searched for something. But eyes could barely stray from her deep blue eyes that were staring back into my own. _Blue eyes…_

_Bella, how could you be so fucking stupid?_ Of course this wasn't Alice. The fact the she is fucking _human_ should have been a clear acknowledgment to that fact.

My vocabulary was still taking a vacation, so I had no choice but continue to stare. My racing heart, which had jump started at her first appearance, had begun to slow down.

So this girl sitting in front of me wasn't Alice. But she looked like her. A lot. She could be a relation, if that is even possible. She had the same jet ink black hair and pixy like features. She was dainty, of course; no taller than my shoulder, even sitting down, but she seemed younger than Alice's actual and physical age. Of course looking closer, the _human_ quality to her became more and more obvious. Her skin had a soft rose hue that seemed beautiful on her gentle face even when marred with the dark shadows beneath her eyes. Her slim build rivalled mine, but that seemed obvious given her choice of food. Her hair was pulled back into a low pony tail, with odd wisps curling around her ears and neck. She was younger than me, perhaps sixteen, but her size made her look even younger. It was her eyes that gave her away; sparkling in their intensity, they seemed to hold a great manner of sadness and experience beyond her years. I'd seen that look in a few of the patients already in my short stay here. I feared for the time when mine would soon take on the same abuse.

During the visual inventory, she simply stared right back at me, making her own assumptions or appraising what was left of me, I didn't know. Reverting my stare from her eyes to the rest of her, she seemed excited and somewhat expectant. With the essence of familiarity, there was also an undeniable sense of trust and openness to her.

"You have no idea how long we've been waiting for you" she said in one rush of breath. Yes, definitely excited. She seemed jumpy almost, with her quick breathing and hyperactive movements. And don't forget the 100 watt smile.

I looked around at the surrounding tables, curious as to see if this is some sort of joke. The past couple of days had been somewhat confusing to say the least. Forget about isolation; meeting and greeting the natives was proving to take its toll on my psych and social competence.

"I'm sorry, I don't think I know you. Have we met?" I asked, but already knew the answer. Apart from the obvious and uncanny resemblance to Alice, I knew I had never seen this girl in my life. And yet she seemed to know me, which was weird.

Her smile falters for a second, but her eyes remained locked on mine. "No, I suppose we haven't" she replied. "Although, in some ways I already feel as if I know you. Which is an unfortunate unbalance in the foundation of our relationship, I understand that now. But nevertheless, we have lots of time to get to know one another properly. You must have so many questions."

"Relationship?" I asked dumbly, managing to understand only part of her wordy introduction.

"Oh, yes – of course. I know for a fact we are going to be the best of friends" she continued, reaching over to pat my hand, while picking up her spoon with the other.

I looked down at my forgotten breakfast, suddenly feeling sick at this sense of déjà vu. Hadn't Alice laughed about the same thing when we first met?

"I'm sorry," I commented once again, "Who are you?"

With a mouthful of oatmeal, she slurped "Crap, of course how rude of me, I haven't even introduced myself to you yet. I'm Cassandra, but everyone around here calls me Cassie." She stuck out her hand and I had no choice but to reach across the table and give it an awkward shake.

Biting her lip, she went back to twirling her spoon, and I notice the light reflecting off it bounces around the table in chaotic patterns. She wanted to say something else, but was holding back.

"I have so many questions for you. You really have come at the perfect time. Just the other day we were-"

"I see you've started breakfast without me," interrupted a masculine voice above us. Abruptly, the spell broke between me and Cassie and I was forced back into reality. Walking towards Cassie's side of the table, the hooded figure placed his tray right next to my new acquaintance and arrogantly made himself comfortable. Even though I should have recognised that swagger anywhere, I wasn't until he pulled down the hood of his dark green pullover that I finally saw who it was.

"Hi Bella" drawled Adrian, "Fancy seeing you here. You're not stalking me I hope?"

Well this day just gets better and better. I looked back and forth between the two of them. Not sure of what their intensions, since they've obviously joined forces to make my stay here even more of a living hell.

"Hi," I reluctantly greeted, looking over their shoulder and mentally planning my escape. Great, Alice No.2 is friends with Mr Crazy. And just when I was starting to get to like her.

"Bella, we may have gotten off on the wrong foot." Adrian caught my eyes and hesitated, scratching his neck. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, clearly that wasn't my intent. I want to apologise for yesterday."

I scoff at his lousy apology, "Well, what did you think would be my reaction when you asked me if I believed in _vampires?!_" Toward the end my demand tapered off into livid hiss.

Adrian had the decency to look contrite, but nevertheless lent forward.

"Bella, you have to listen to me," he continued, as his cool breath caressed my face while his dark eyes penetrated my own. _He is such a – urrh! Fine, maybe I should just hear just this once._

I reluctantly nod my head for him to continue.

"Bella, Cassie and I have been waiting for you for quite a while. We almost thought you weren't going to come." He glanced back at Cassie and some small, silent communication passed between them. It was obvious they were friends, best friends. And they trusted each other. In a place like this I suppose that sort of connection was hard to find. I envied them.

And despite the tension hanging in the air for which I had adversely introduced, they were comfortable together. Two halves of the whole. It was noticeable in Cassie's reaction alone when Adrian first sat down. Her longing look was palpable and made me think maybe it was more than friendship on her side. They continued to behave in sync for a quick morning greeting; a brush of hair here, a stroke of an arm there. Their separation, no matter how small seemed to only make their reunion that much sweeter.

And finally they were perfectly content; with Adrian's arm casually encasing Cassie in a protective hug and Cassie reciprocating by comfortably leaning against his side.

Finally she gave him a delicate smile, for which he return generously, pleased with her silent permission. Fine, perhaps her affection wasn't completely one sided.

"Ok, I admit blurting it all out like that wasn't the best action to take," he admitted, wrenching his gaze from Cassie and turning back to me. She gave a slight giggle beside him, but tried to discretely cover it up by stuffing her mouth full of his bacon, that she somehow managed to pilfer without us seeing. "Maybe it would be better to first admit how we know you."

"You mean you've been snooping in my files" I remarked and continued despite their confused expressions, "How else would you think I..?"

Cassie gently grasped Adrian's hand, before taking the lead on this topic. At this point, after having finished my bacon, I had managed to nervously start ripping my toast into grizzly pieces, trying my best to ignore them as I popped them in my mouth.

"Bella, we are trying to start out on better terms and make amends of this mess we've made," I raised my eyes, but not my head to see Adrian. He had furrowed his brows at Cassie's statement toward _their_ mess instead of _his_ mess. He clearly didn't like how she was including herself in this. _I'm right there with you buddy, yesterday was_ your_ fuck up. _

"But Bella, the least you can do is give us a second chance" Cassie pleaded with a timid smile.

God her resemblance to Alice was heart breaking. How could I say no? _Why couldn't Adrian be asking all this; that 'no' would be easy to dish out. _

"What do you want from me?" I asked, exasperated.

It wasn't so much an acceptance to their apology, so much as me wanting them to leave me the hell alone. Obviously they wanted to know about the vampires for some reason, but I would never be in the right state of mind to ever discuss that topic with anyone other than the wolf pack and the Cullens. Even if they do believe it's all just hallucinations.

But they were going to keep asking. And what would I say? Obviously not the truth. Just play it off, convince them that they are mistaken? But what if they really have read my files? That means they know why I'm in here and they could use that against me.

I was so _tired_, I just wanted to be left alone. Why all the attention now? Before going to Forks, my life was blissfully subdued and I was content. I sometimes wonder what my life would have been like if I never did go live with Charlie. I certainly wouldn't be here, that's for sure. But do I really wish not to have known _him_? Is this the price I'm paying for having glimpsed at heaven? Am I now in hell?

"Bella, we'll forget about the vampires for now, ok?" spoke Cassie. _For now._

"Just tell me how you know me" I asked again, with more emphasis.

Cassie looked down at her and Adrian's joined hands, biting nervously at the corner of her lip.

"I dreamt about you" she said.

"Fine," I snapped, pushing away from the table, "obviously this is one big joke to you or, I don't know maybe you are fucking wacked out of your mind, but I really can't be bothered with this shit at the moment."

I made it about one step, if that, before Adrian snatched my arm, forcing me back to the table. His eyes looked so much darker angry, as he shoved me back into my seat.

"Bella, would you just for one second hear us out!"

"No. What can't you understand that I just want to be left alone? You _dreamt_ about me? You really are crazy."

"Bella, how is it so hard to believe?" Cassie inquired softly.

"_What?!"_

"Why don't you believe me? This has happened to you before."

My chest felt suddenly tight at what she just said. Of course Alice used to see me all the time in her visions. But that was different. That was her vampire power; visions of the future. It was an unbelievable trait, yet one I had overtly accepted. But Cassie was human and it simply wasn't possible.

"H-how do you know…about..?"

"I saw her. Well, kind of. Not like how I saw you and definitely not as often. But I saw her right at the start. She's important to you." The last part wasn't a question, simply a statement of fact.

"Yes," my throat was suddenly parched and I reach for a quick sip of orange juice. But in typical Bella fashion, combined with my increasing stress, I misjudged the distance and knocked the plastic cup. There's a scramble to stop it from spilling completely over the table, but Adrian quick as a flash, grabbed the flying beverage and silently placed it back into my hand with a sheepish grin.

"Thanks" I whispered back at him. I turned back to Cassie and I forget what I was saying, instead taking three large gulps of juice to fill the silence. "She's… she was my best friend."

"Alice" she states knowingly. "She… she looks like me, doesn't she?"

"_Exactly_ like you" I reply quietly, as I lightly trace the edges on my cup.

"Why do you think that is?" she seemed suddenly even more expectant. Like she really believed I knew the answer.

"To be honest, I have no fucking idea."

"Oh" she said, disappointed.

Adrian, previously silent, spoke up, "But you believe us now, don't you?"

I head turned sharply to glare at him, "That she _saw_ me? Maybe. It's a bit hard to believe but… maybe. That either of you _know_ me? No. You know nothing about me."

He hastily continued, "But, about the vampires-"

"No!" I snapped. Jesus, why couldn't they understand that I simply didn't what to talk about them? No good has ever come from talking about them. _It's a secret._ God damn it, it was a _fucking secret!_ I've already betrayed their trust and I'm paying for it. But don't make me remember, please don't make me…

I had to get out of there. My head was swimming. Faces and walls all blurred together. Noise became background static to the thumping of my head. The room was closing in and I had no way to escape. I was trapped in a mind full of mistakes and regrets, memories and wishes.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I tried to block out any visual stimulus. The pounding in my ears clogged out any sound but I could still feel. _And it hurt._ I felt like I was breaking on the inside; screaming underwater where no one could hear me. Despite the sun on my back, I felt cold, my face especially. Maybe I'm dead inside. Frozen to the point of death. Fine, as long as I didn't have to _feel_.

"_Bella, open your eyes! Bella!"_

Somewhere in the distance a voice was calling. Squeezing my eyes tighter still, I refused to accept reality. In my mind, I was safe; trapped, but safe. No one could hurt me here.

Taking shaky breaths, I became more aware of my surroundings. I noticed the room – the cafeteria – was quieter and the sun remained a steady warmth to my back. My hands were clenching the table edge and there was also the sound of distinct broken sobs coming from some poor soul that sounded like they had almost given up.

Opening my eyes slowly, I was faced with Adrian leading across the table, once again disregarding my personal space and positioning his face mere inches from my own. I realised he was stroking my cheeks, whipping away the wetness he found there and I realised with a start; I was crying, quite heavily, in fact. And those broken sobs were mine.

Adrian continued to hold my face between his hands. Looking into his eyes, I saw only worry and affection one would have for close friend rather than acquaintance.

"Breathe Bella, just calm down" he continued.

I was trying. Really, I was, but my head still felt like it was filled with cotton wool and my eyes couldn't yet focus properly.

"What's happening to me?" I pleaded.

"If what you're feeling is new, it mean's they've probably put you on some different type of drug. You are too overly emotional, you have the shakes and your pupils are dilated."

"I feel sort of compressed… is that normal?" I whispered. My head was completely supported by his hands and my entire being felt drained.

"I'm sorry, I don't know. But your body doesn't seem to be used to it."

"I don't want to feel this way."

My tears had long stopped, but his thumbs kept caressing my face in a comforting way. Slowly, but surely my muscles seemed to gain an ounce of strength and I could soon move my limbs into a more comfortable position. Sitting back carefully, I realised the cafeteria had near completely emptied out, with only a handful of patients sitting scattered along the wall and a couple of attendings conversing in the doorway.

"Bella?" At the mention of my name, my head turned back to our table and I saw that it was Cassie speaking this time. I hadn't noticed, but she remained in the same position, albeit her hand now fearfully clenching Adrian's bicep. Her expression, though much calmer than Adrian's, was weary, like she expected as much from me. Maybe she saw this happening.

"I'm fine" I said, unenthusiastically.

"Um, maybe we should continue with this discussion at another time" murmured Adrian suddenly, "We seem to have gathered an audience." Following his gaze to the doors, I realised he was right. Within the last minute, two more attendings had now gathered about the cafeteria entrance and all were now staring tactically at us.

In even more of a hushed whisper, he continued, "Cassie and I still need to talk to you. Whenever you're ready." He added quickly.

I did my best to avoid both Adrian and Cassie for the next week. If our first meeting was any testament, there was something really weird about those two. And no way did I want to investigate why that might be. I felt I was doing well with Operation: Avoid the Weirdos – but that didn't mean they were avoiding me. Either one of them seemed to crop up whenever I turned around, be it at meal times, lessons, walking down the corridor or during "creative emotional and psychological enrichment". I even found Adrian casually leaning against the wall opposite my bedroom one morning. To which I promptly slammed the door in his face and stubbornly waited an hour until I knew he had definitely gone.

I wasn't sure the exact reasons for my avoidance, I just knew being around them would cause more trouble than it was worth and since my body hadn't fully accepted the new bout of drugs, I literally didn't think their presence would be beneficial on my wellbeing.

As for the drugs – shit – that first episode in the cafeteria seemed to be only a small prevue for what was to come. They must have upped my dosage because the shakes and dizziness became the least of my worries. Sickness and descent into complete delirium followed to a point where I couldn't tell the difference between an hour and a day, and one small movement equalled a quick run to the bin to throw up any remnants of substance in my stomach.

The days soon blurred together and I felt like I as dying. I dreamt of _him_, starring in both memories and inaccessible futures, as both my saviour and executioner. Though my mind seemed to be slowly decaying, my heart still knew want it wanted, and it wanted him. _So desperately. _

I think I was in the hospital wing at some point. I remember the distinct smell of medicine and cleaning chemicals, mixed with faint odour of death that I had always associated with such a place. And Adrian; I saw his face often enough to wonder if I was dreaming about him too, though it seemed unlikely.

I just hated feeling so powerless. I was used to feeling something like this around the Cullens – who wouldn't as the only mortal in a group of vampires? Yet here, surrounded by humans with their white coats and prepared injections, I had never felt more helpless or more terrified. I knew I was completely under their control; my body and mind was theirs for the taking. They could do anything they wanted to me and my only allowed reaction was to silently scream.

One morning, thankfully, I woke up; drained, cold and hungry, but clear minded. I _was_ in the hospital, as it turned out. In one of those industrial metal beds, with a mattress at thin as paper and a pillow that made my skin itch. Cream curtains were halfway closed around me, blocking my view of the whispering doctors down at the end of the wing, but I had a clear view to my left of the rest of the beds, several of which were occupied by other patients in varying states of lucidity.

Trying to sit up, my efforts were suddenly and painfully dashed when I recognized the padded straps holding me down; one across my chest, two around my wrists and, when trying to move my feet, two more around my ankles. My sudden panic must have alerted the doctors, as the curtain was swiftly wrenched to the side, revealing a balding man.

His appearance was a comical opposite to that of Carlisle, a doctor I would have much preferred to have treating me right now. His was tall and lean, unlike the attendings I've seen roaming about that seem to have taken a leaf out of Jacob's book; promptly favouring a bunch of steroids rather than a balance diet. He reminded me of my chemistry teacher back in Phoenix. Same half-moon glasses and a preference for brightly coloured ties. This one featuring birds of paradise, which he had carefully tucked into the top pocket of his white coat to obviously prevent it from dangling into anything unwanted.

"Isabella Swan. Welcome back, it's good to see you're finally awake" he said, promptly checking on my chart at the end of the bed, before adjusting the IV that I hadn't notice was by my head.

"What happened?" I asked groggily. It felt like I've been lying here for months, my whole body ached.

"Your body had a slight aversion to the medication you've been taking. You had a mild seizure following some abnormal side effects. But after adjusting your overall dosage and placing you on a different type of antidepressant, you seem to be doing much better. Of course you will have to stay in for another night of observation. Tomorrow morning you will be released at around 9 o'clock, but will have to check in with Dr Roberts to make up for your missed sessions. With any dosage change it is important to monitor any abnormal behaviour, if you experience any symptoms like those before your seizure, I want you to come find me or contact Dr Roberts immediately. Any questions?" He finishes with a flourish, turning back to face me directly.

"How many sessions did I miss?" _What I really want to know is how many days have I been out of it._

"Only two. You were admitted early morning Tuesday. What's the last thing you remember?" he asks gently.

What do I remember? Having lunch with Adrian and Cassie… trying to avoid them… I had a session with Roberts the next day… did I even go?

"I'm not sure" I replied, "It all jumbled… I don't…" My mind was blank for the last few days, not knowing what was real and what wasn't. Was that really all down to the medication? Is this what I have to expect my life to be like here now? Not knowing where reality ends and the drugs begin?

"Okay, it's okay," the doctor assured me, evidently realising a rising panic attack when he sees one. Gently he started removing the material cuffs from my feet and hands, as well as the one across my chest. Seeing my bewildered expression, he explained, "They were only as a precaution. When you were having you seizure, you weren't in complete control of your body. They were there to stop you from hurting yourself."

_So the straps holding me down immobile were there for _my_ benefit? Right. _

"Get some rest" he continued, "I'll see about getting you some solid food. You must be starving."

Without another word he swiftly scribbled some notes down on my chart before returning it back to slates on the foot of the bed and disappearing behind the curtain as quickly as he came.

**""*""**

**Sorry, couldn't help myself but add a new character. Although you could argue that she isn't that different from someone else we all know and love. Just picture an Alice with longer hair.**

**Food for thought: Cassandra (metaphor) is a term applied in situations when warnings or concerns are dismissed. It originates from the Greek mythology, where the daughter of Priam was given the gift of prophecy, but she's cursed to ensure that no one would ever believe her warnings. **_**Think about it…**_** ;) **

**Reviews appreciated. xx**


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